


Tempting Fate

by ficbear



Category: Samurai Warriors, Shin Sangokumusou | Dynasty Warriors, Warriors Orochi
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Comeplay, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Fingerfucking, Leather Kink, M/M, Masks, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Rimming, Wine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 11:50:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbear/pseuds/ficbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story Motochika is telling is familiar, one that Sima Shi has heard him tell often before, but the men clustered around him listen eagerly anyway, as if it's enough just to hear their captain's voice. Sima Shi shakes his head slightly, bemused by the similarity he bears to these adoring followers; he might be more restrained in his appreciation, but isn't he really just another face in Motochika's enraptured crowd? And the only mystery more perplexing than why Sima Shi is so drawn to Motochika, is why Motochika seems so drawn to <em>him</em>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempting Fate

Motochika's quarters are small, and the room seems smaller still when packed with his men. Drunken sailors sprawl across every available surface, joking and bickering amongst themselves loudly enough that Sima Shi suspects the whole camp can hear them. He sits in the middle of them, drinking slowly and silently, and watches Motochika hold court. The story Motochika is telling is familiar, one that Sima Shi has heard him tell often before, but the men clustered around him listen eagerly anyway, as if it's enough just to hear their captain's voice. Sima Shi shakes his head slightly, bemused by the similarity he bears to these adoring followers; he might be more restrained in his appreciation, but isn't he really just another face in Motochika's enraptured crowd? And the only mystery more perplexing than why Sima Shi is so drawn to Motochika, is why Motochika seems so drawn to _him_.

Looking up from his drink, Sima Shi finds the older man staring directly at him.

"Everybody out." Motochika orders, raising his voice above the clamour. "Party's over."

His men immediately do as they're told, cutting off their conversations and saluting their captain with apparently sincere affection. Even in the grip of revelry, Motochika's men seem to be absolutely loyal and obedient, and Sima Shi can't help but admire the ability to inspire such devotion. The last of the sailors staggers out of the room, bidding his captain a slurred goodnight as he leaves, and the two of them are left alone at last.

"Did you really tire of your men's company so quickly?"

"They were annoying you." Motochika picks up his cup and bottle and moves over to sit beside the younger man. "And besides, I can spend time with them whenever I like. Tonight you're the main attraction."

"Hmph." Sima Shi arches an eyebrow. "Does that kind of line that work on your cabin boys?"

Motochika grins, and refills the younger man's cup. "If you were a cabin boy, I wouldn't need any words at all. But I wouldn't expect things to be that simple with the legendary Sima Shi."

"Oh, should I be flattered?" He keeps his expression as cool and neutral as his tone, but Sima Shi can't ignore the tension building inside him. Sitting this close to Motochika, close enough that he can smell the rich scent of leather and the tang of wine on the older man's breath, Sima Shi finds himself slowly succumbing to what seems like an inescapable attraction.

"You should react honestly."

One warm, gloved hand cups the back of Sima Shi's neck and pulls him forward. The touch is light enough that he could easily pull away, but it might as well be a leash around his neck, and he has no chance at all of resisting. Motochika kisses him roughly, fiercely, and the touch of his tongue sends a jolt of arousal coursing through Sima Shi's flesh. Arching against the older man, he returns the kiss just as deeply, and gives a faint murmur of approval as Motochika's leg pushes its way between his thighs. He can feel the warmth and strength of Motochika's body beneath the leather, almost as keenly as if the older man were naked.

With a soft laugh, Motochika breaks the kiss and brings his hand down to cup the hard ridge of Sima Shi's cock, stroking it through the fabric it strains against. "You're this hard, just from a kiss?" His lips trail down across Sima Shi's throat, and the sharp sting of teeth follows each caress. "You've more of an appetite for this than I thought."

"I know what I want." The young man tips his head back, and pushes up against Motochika's palm.

"Then let me give it to you."

His clothes yield easily to the older man's grip, and soon Sima Shi is naked and spread out across the pillows heaped beneath them. The dark tones of Motochika's form, the leather and metal and the curling lines of his tattoos, seem all the more severe against the pallor of Sima Shi's skin. He feels almost like a spectre, faint and pale, unsubstantial compared to the vivid physicality of the older man's form. Leaning over him, Motochika takes hold of his wrists and pins them above his head, winding the sash of his belt around them to fix his hands in place.

"Are you expecting me to put up some resistance..?" Sima Shi smiles slightly, testing the tightness of his bonds.

"I thought you'd look good tied up, that's all." Motochika laughs, and flips the young man over onto his stomach. "And I was right."

Warm leather and hot skin presses against Sima Shi's body, and he can feel the hardness of Motochika's cock pushing against him, barely restrained by the fabric between them. Were this anyone else, Sima Shi would have demanded to be untied and shown them the point of his sword. But the warm body pressing against him belongs to Motochika, and so it draws him ever closer, irresistibly. He can only arch up against the older man, overcome by that fierce magnetism, and let Motochika do as he will. Sima Shi closes his eyes and pushes back against Motochika's lap, focussing all of his attention on the warmth of the leather against his skin, and the heat of the firm flesh beneath it.

Cool liquid splashes abruptly over the length of his back, and Sima Shi stifles a yelp. Glancing over his shoulder, the young man watches as Motochika pours the remnants of his wine over his bare skin, letting it trickle down along the curve of his spine. The heat of Motochika's tongue follows close behind, licking away the cold touch of the wine, trailing across the contours of his back and down towards his rear. Another splash of wine hits him, trickling down along the cleft of his ass, and is chased by the older man's tongue. This time Sima Shi fails to stifle his reaction, and he gives a faint moan as Motochika laps at the wine-slicked flesh of his ass. Grinding against the pillows beneath him, Sima Shi spreads his legs further and pushes back against the older man's tongue. The heat and pressure of it is irresistible, too sweet to ignore, and he finds himself tugging unconsciously at the sash binding his wrists, wishing he could slip a hand down and touch himself. Motochika's tongue flicks at his flesh more and more firmly, teasing and tormenting him, until at last it presses inside him deeply enough to earn a harsh cry of pleasure. The older man chuckles against his skin, letting his laughter vibrate through Sima Shi's sensitive flesh, and the hum of it makes that darting tongue even harder to withstand.

"Motochika…" His voice catches softly as he struggles to maintain his composure. "Are you going to tease me all night?"

"Maybe." The older man laughs.

One discarded glove hits the pillow beside Sima Shi's face, and the young man watches as Motochika coats his fingers with oil. The first two fingers slide easily into his ass, delving deep inside him and hitting just the right angle to drive a moan from his lips. The third and fourth are harder to take, but Motochika's touch is slow and skilled, and before long Sima Shi's body has yielded to it entirely. Those expert fingers twist and scissor inside him, stroking the most sensitive parts of the young man as adeptly as if he were touching himself, and he finds himself barely able to suppress the tremors that ripple through his flesh.

"Stop toying with me…" Sima Shi protests, pushing back impatiently against the older man's hand. "I'm not an instrument to be plucked and played with."

"Of course you're not…" Motochika gives the young man one last hard thrust of his hand, perfectly aimed to earn another indignant moan, and withdraws his fingers.

There's a brief pause, before the sound of Motochika's trousers being shucked down attracts Sima Shi's attention. He glances icily over his shoulder. "You're not going to fuck me without letting me taste it, are you?"

"You're a demanding little prince at times, aren't you?" The older man chuckles, and takes hold of Sima Shi's hair, pulling him forward roughly. "Come here, then."

Holding Sima Shi in place, Motochika rubs the tip of his cock against the young man's lips, never allowing him more than the slightest taste. Sima Shi sighs in frustration, shifting against the pillows beneath him, and looks up at Motochika with what he hopes is a withering glare.

"Did you invite me here just to torment me, or—"

Motochika pushes his cock between the younger man's lips, cutting off Sima Shi's words with one rough thrust. The scent of leather and sweat and sex fills Sima Shi's head, and the heat of that hard shaft against his tongue is maddening. The young man sucks lightly at Motochika's cock, swallowing every moan it provokes, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of complete abandonment. It's futile, though; the older man simply grabs a handful of Sima Shi's hair and forces him down further, thrusting into his mouth roughly enough to drive a little choked moan of discomfort from him. As loath as he is to admit it, he can't deny Motochika anything. All he can do is strive to retain at least the appearance of control, even if it is largely illusory.

Sima Shi pulls back, breathing his words against the shaft of the older man's cock. "Fuck me…" He murmurs, giving Motochika a light flick of his tongue. "Don’t keep me waiting."

"You should remember whose mercy you're at right now, Sima Shi."

"And _you_ should remember to whom you're attending…"

The older man just laughs, and hauls Sima Shi into position as if the sharpness in his tone is nothing. Then, slowly and steadily, Motochika feeds inch after inch of his cock into the younger man's ass, and each movement grinds another shred of Sima Shi's self-control away. Heat and hardness fills him, forcing him open slowly but surely, until the older man's cock is buried to the hilt in him. He waits for a moment, letting his body adjust just enough to take the edge off the sensation, and then begins to move beneath Motochika.

"Not content to lay there and let me do the work, then?" The older man laughs softly, giving Sima Shi a short, hard thrust.

"I'm not some swooning novice." Sima Shi says, but the sharpness of his tone is blunted by the rich note of pleasure in his voice, and he pushes back against the older man appreciatively.

"Far from it…" Motochika grips his waist and begins to fuck him in earnest, grinding the young man down against the pillows beneath him.  The pace he sets is measured and steady, hard enough to leave Sima Shi trembling and slow enough to frustrate the young man's insatiable hunger for more.

"Stop teasing me, fuck me properly…" Sima Shi demands, grinding against Motochika, trying to force the older man to increase his pace. "Do I have to do everything myself?"

"Show me what you can do, then, boy." Motochika laughs and pulls Sima Shi backward, hauling the younger man astride his lap.

Without missing a beat, Sima Shi begins to ride Motochika, as if the sudden change of position is nothing to him. The older man's cock strikes deeply within him with each downstroke, and his nails dig into the palms of his hands as he moves, but Sima Shi sets and keeps a brisk pace despite the shivers of pleasure that are beginning to overwhelm him. Grinding and rolling his hips, the younger man does everything in his power to drag Motochika along with him toward the precipice. When he hears the faint clink of a bottle being picked up, he gives a scornful little chuckle.

"Do you need a drink to keep yourself going?" Sima Shi smirks at Motochika, watching him drain the last of the wine from the bottle. "Have you overexerted yourself?"

The older man laughs, the sound muffled as he swallows the last mouthful, and sets the empty bottle down. Then, with a smirk of his own, Motochika seizes hold of the younger man's arms and throws him down to the floor. The strength in that tattooed body is more obvious than ever now, and Sima Shi finds himself pinned down in seconds, spread out and helpless on his back. Arching up as Motochika begins to fuck him again, Sima Shi watches the older man's eyes; he expects to see anger mixed in with lust, but there is only pleasure and desire in that fierce gaze, and even the most strenuous efforts to provoke Motochika seem to have no hope of success.

Holding Sima Shi's bound wrists in one hand, Motochika brings the other hand down to the younger man's face, and his fingertips trace over the contours of the mask that half-covers it as if he were stroking a priceless treasure. "You really are a strange one, aren't you?" Sima Shi murmurs, tilting his head to allow the older man better access.

"Am I?" Motochika moves his hand down, brushing lightly over Sima Shi's chest and stomach, until it finally rests on the shaft of the young man's cock. "No stranger than you, surely."

The only reply Sima Shi can give is to tip his head back and arch up into Motochika's fist, bucking beneath him as that firm hand begins to manipulate him. Bound and impaled, gripped tightly and played with ease, caught in the glare of Motochika's gaze, Sima Shi feels himself tumbling rapidly towards his climax. He murmurs incoherent protests, demanding more and cursing Motochika for his skill, and in moments the pleasure overwhelms him. That merciless hand drains every last drop of his come, letting it spill and spray across his stomach as he writhes and squirms, until he finally collapses back breathlessly beneath the older man.

Only once he has lain back, exhausted and subdued, does Motochika finally seem to focus on his own pleasure. He fucks Sima Shi harder and faster now, pounding into him with short, sharp thrusts that shake his body with their force, and keeps his gaze locked on the young man's face with an almost frightening intensity. Sima Shi finds himself glancing away, unnerved by the vehemence of the desire in those grey eyes, and it's only the older man's ragged groan of satisfaction that brings his own gaze back to Motochika. Pulling back abruptly, the older man withdraws and wraps his hand around the shaft of his cock, letting the last few sprays of his come pulse across Sima Shi's stomach, mingling with the streaks of seed already cooling on the young man's skin. The last wave of pleasure shudders through Motochika visibly, and he chuckles softly as he trails a fingertip across the sticky, come-spattered contours of Sima Shi's body.

The young man stretches out beneath him, unable to suppress a bemused laugh. "You're most certainly the strangest lover I've ever had." He says, giving Motochika a brief, warm smile. "…But I'll concede, no stranger than I am."


End file.
